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It suddenly dawned on him. “Have you been drinking the bore water?” Wazza tried to hide his alarm. God, how long had they been here?
“It’s all we had,” the woman replied, meeting his gaze with a defiant raise of her dark eyebrow.
“You can get sick if you drink that.” He tilted his chin toward the trough. It wasn’t safe to drink the same water as the cattle, there could be all sorts of diseases in there, apart from the high salt content and other chemicals found in bore water. “I’ve got a couple of bottles in my vehicle,” he said, striding back toward the Land Cruiser. Reaching in, he fished two bottles from the back seat. Everyone always carried extra water out here.
But as he made his way over to them, the woman held up her hand. “Stay right there,” she commanded. When he halted in his tracks, she said, “Put them down there and back away.” She directed her dark stare at him as he did what she asked, returning to the side of his vehicle.
Wow, this woman had a whole shitpile of trust issues. But who was he to judge?
When she was sure he was well out of range, she walked forward, grabbed the bottles, and took them back to the tree, where her little girl was waiting, casting worried glances back toward Wazza over her shoulder as she went. As if she expected him to charge at her and tackle her to the ground at any moment. More than just trust issues, then. She looked downright scared of him.
He watched as she unscrewed the lid and handed the bottle to her daughter, who gulped it greedily, some of the liquid spilling down her chin and making dark splotches on her pink T-shirt. The little girl drank her fill until she finally tipped the bottle back and smacked her lips. “That tastes good.” She gave Wazza a cautious smile. “That other stuff was yucky.”
Wazza could well imagine. Bore water often had a metallic taste, and smelled even worse. The poor little thing, having to drink contaminated water. Which made him wonder again, how long had they been out here? He was still trying to get his head around this shocking turn of events. What was this woman and her child doing here? How had they got here? There was no vehicle nearby. And they surely hadn’t walked. It was over twenty kilometers to the nearest main road, let alone a township. There was a definite puzzle here that needed to be solved. But the way the woman was glaring at him with barely concealed animosity—or was that fear?—he didn’t think the answers were going to be easily discovered.
